Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

I ngrid

Kevin's fingers found their way deeper, their tips entering where Joseph had worked me so hard just a few moments ago. Kevin's different, just as arrogant, caress sent a hot jolt of need up my spine.

An even hotter surge of shame followed as I felt my body respond without my consent, betraying me with a helpless arousal that made me dizzy. The even greater heat from Joseph's paddle still radiated from my thoroughly punished bottom cheeks, mingling pain with the unexpected pleasure of Kevin's touch.

"Joseph got you so wet, didn't he?" Kevin murmured, his voice full of smug satisfaction. His words stung, but I couldn't deny the truth in them. My body quivered beneath his hand, my mind a chaotic mix of mortification and unbidden desire.

"Please…" I whispered yet again, as if it had become the mantra of my submission.

"Such a good little toy," Louis said, his tone soft yet filled with lust as he reached down to squeeze my breast through the lace of my bra. His touch was rough, and I cried out, the sound torn between pain and the unbearable need that made my skin tingle.

"Look at her squirm," Martin observed, his brutality evident in the way he pinched my nipple, hard enough to make me gasp. He sauntered around the table, his eyes roving, clearly enjoying the power dynamics at play to the fullest.

My eyes darted to Joseph, sitting in his luxurious chair, watching the scene unfold with a calculated expression. A part of me sought his approval even as I fought against the humiliation washing over me in waves. I couldn't tell whether I had it; his ice-blue eyes seemed unreadable, as if he had resolved to play this part of his Game only as a dispassionate observer.

"Don't stop," Kevin ordered, his fingers digging into the tender flesh where my thighs met my hips and pulling my focus away from my master's gaze. The three of them took turns caressing every inch of my exposed body, their hands exploring with a thoroughness that left no part of me untouched. They squeezed my breasts, their fingers leaving marks on the pale skin, and kneaded my reddened bottom cheeks, reigniting the sting of Joseph's punishment. They probed between the cheeks, seeking out the tiny flower where I had to receive Joseph's massive hardness every night.

"More," I heard myself say, the word slipping out before I could catch it. My cheeks flared with heat, but I couldn't pretend I hadn't meant it. I wanted my master to see how very much I could endure for him.

"That's right, Ingrid," Kevin said, his grin widening as he stood back to free his cock from his trousers. "You know what you want."

As soon as Kevin's hand left my thigh, Louis replaced it with his own, teasing my swollen clit with deft fingers. I bucked against his hand, my body arching off the coffee table in desperate response.

"She's loving this," Martin remarked, his voice a low growl as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his long, thin cock. He stroked himself, his eyes locked on mine, daring me to look away.

"Open wide," Louis instructed, guiding his thick, short cock to my mouth. I obeyed, my lips parting instinctively as he pressed forward, the taste of him filling my senses.

"Good girl," Kevin praised, his eyes dark with hunger as he watched me take Louis into my mouth. Meanwhile, Martin's hands roamed over my body, squeezing and groping, each touch sending jolts of sensation through me.

Joseph's silent presence in the background seemed somehow to speak in my mind, as if every degrading thing his junior executives said had his authority behind it.

Give her more , I imagined him saying, so vividly that I wondered if my master had in fact spoken aloud. Take her hard. Fill her up.

The ordeal had only just begun, but already I felt myself slipping into a realm where pain and pleasure intertwined, where my cries of anguish were indistinguishable from my moans of ecstasy. My body became a canvas for their exploration, painted with the colors of submission and dominance, each stroke a testament to their power and my submission.

Kevin's grip on my thighs tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh as he spread me wide. The air of the office cooled the exposed, sensitive flesh of my smooth pussy, making me even more conscious of the heat there. I felt terribly bare before them, a spectacle of submission and arousal. Their every touch seemed like a brand on my trembling body.

"Me too," Martin commanded me, his voice a brutal growl so that the monosyllables sent shivers down my spine. He thrust his cock toward me, the throbbing length demanding attention. He took my left hand roughly and wrapped my fingers around him to reinforce his lewd demand. The hardness pulsated under my touch as I began to stroke, suddenly eager to please and fearful of Martin's wrath if I disobeyed.

"That's it, little whore," he spat, the words cutting through me like a hot knife. His cruel gaze bore into mine, green eyes searing with dominance. The insult ignited something deep inside, a forbidden thrill that made my core clench with need.

Louis had pulled his cock from between my lips, and he started to tease me with it. He brushed the tip over my lips as if to taunt me with a piece of candy he didn't mean to let me eat.

"She's eager," Kevin remarked, amusement lacing his tone as he guided my other hand to Louis' waiting cock. "Look at her licking her lips."

The truth of his statement became undeniable as my lips parted, breath hitching at the scent and sight of their rigid penises. My mouth watered, tongue darting out to wet my lips as they teased me. The swollen heads brushed against my face, leaving trails of pre-cum on my cheeks and my chin that made my face flush with embarrassment.

"Please…" The word escaped unbidden once again, a desperate plea for mercy but also for more, for everything they had to offer. Despite the shame clawing at my insides, I couldn't deny the intense arousal coursing through me.

I felt Joseph's eyes on me. I wanted to show him… what? Submission? Obedience? Yes, but… independence, too? My mind reeled with the contrast for a moment, before the sensory storm of the gang bang ripped me back to the here and now of the coffee table, the office, and the three enormous men using me for their pleasure.

"Such a good little slut," Louis murmured, his voice thick with lust as he pushed his cock against my lips. I opened eagerly, the taste of salt and musk filling my senses as I took him in, sucking greedily. The sensation of his cock sliding over my tongue, hitting the back of my throat, made my head spin with dizzying discomfort and arousal.

"Just a little whore, aren't you, Ingrid?" Martin sneered, his hand tangling in my hair to guide my movements on his colleague's penis. "Just a little cock-sucking whore."

Whore , I thought helplessly, the word reverberating in my mind, stoking the fire between my thighs. I was their whore on loan, their borrowed plaything. My body responded with a fervor I couldn't control, hips arching off the table, seeking contact, seeking release.

Kevin's hands were relentless, his grip firm as he spread my knees even wider apart, exposing me completely. I felt his eyes devouring every inch of my exposed flesh, a predatory glint in his piercing gaze.

I whimpered, unable to suppress the desperate need building inside me. His fingers traced over my slick folds, teasing and torturing me before plunging deep within. My body arched off the coffee table, shamelessly seeking more.

"She needs it so bad," Martin commented.

"Patience, little whore," Louis interjected, changing his position to straddle my chest and keep thrusting his manhood between my lips. "You'll get what you deserve in that wet cunt." He pushed himself deeper into my mouth, filling it completely, muffling my cries of desperation.

Martin's rough hand found its way to my own, wrapping my fingers around his throbbing erection. "Keep stroking," he commanded, his voice a growl of raw desire. "Don't stop."

My head spun with the overwhelming sensations—Kevin's fingers delving deeper, Louis' cock stretching my mouth, Martin's insistent guidance. I was drowning in a sea of lust and submission, barely able to keep track of who was where, doing what. All I could do was respond, surrendering completely to their demands.

"God, you're tight," Kevin groaned, finally replacing his fingers with the solid, pulsing length of his cock. He thrust into me with a force that sent shockwaves of pleasure through my entire being. I cried out around Louis, the sound muffled but unmistakable, as Kevin's rhythm grew faster, harder.

"That's it, take it all," Louis encouraged, his tone both soothing and commanding. His words sent a new surge of lust through me, spurring me on to suck harder, deeper, my tongue swirling around him with eager abandon.

"Such a good little slut," Martin said, his grip tightening around my hand, urging me to move faster. "You love this, don't you? Being used like this?"

Yes , I thought, grateful that I didn't have to speak it out loud. I could feel an orgasm building, an unstoppable tide rising higher and higher with each thrust, each stroke, each command. I was lost in a frenzy of sensation, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and pain.

"Fuck, I can feel it. She's gonna come," Kevin announced, his voice strained with effort and arousal. "She's so close."

"Let her," Louis replied, his own voice thick with need. "Let our little whore come for us."

And then it happened. My body convulsed, muscles tightening and releasing in a series of uncontrollable spasms. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me, leaving me breathless and trembling. I lost count of how many times I came, each orgasm blending into the next in a haze of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Through it all, Joseph's presence loomed large in my mind. I could feel his eyes on me, watching, evaluating, even as I surrendered completely to the junior executives. His control remained absolute, his power undeniable though the hands on me belonged to his minions.

Amidst the dark, forbidden ordeal, I felt valued. Loved, even. Joseph had orchestrated the punishment—all of it, the agony of the paddling and the degradation of the gang bang—as a way to show his care for me, as twisted as it might seem to anyone outside this office. My certainty of his unwavering gaze provided a strange sense of comfort, a reminder that I belonged to him, that I was his.

Submission. Obedience. And independence. Yes. Because with my own free will—without even the help of the compliance wand—I had accepted my master's discipline. My master… my boss… the man I loved.

"Good girl," Martin cooed, his voice softer now, almost affectionate. "You're taking us so well."

"She's perfect," Kevin agreed, his thrusts slowing as he savored the last remnants of my climax. "Absolutely perfect."

"Remember this, Ingrid," Louis added, his tone laced with both warning and praise. "Remember who you belong to."

Joseph , I thought, the name echoing in my mind like a mantra, alongside please . Please, Joseph. Please, sir.

Despite everything—the pain, the humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure—it was Joseph's presence that anchored me, his control that held me together.

Louis and Martin lifted me from the coffee table, their hands firm, restraining, unyielding as they adjusted my position. My body seemed like a live wire, every nerve ending aflame with sensation. Kevin lay down on his back, his cock rigid and commanding. They lowered me onto him, guiding me until he was buried deep inside my pussy. Kevin's grip on my hips was possessive, his eyes dark with lust.

"Her mouth is mine," Martin growled, his voice a rough edge against the backdrop of my moans. "I want to come down her throat."

Louis positioned himself behind me, spreading my cheeks to expose my already vulnerable anus. I gasped as he pushed inside, the stretch and burn melding into an overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure. Martin moved in front of me, his cock inches from my lips, teasing, taunting.

"Open up, whore," he sneered, and despite the degradation, a shiver of arousal coursed through me. I parted my lips, taking him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

They moved in a synchronized rhythm, each thrust driving me further into a state of pure sensation. Kevin's cock filled me completely, while Louis's relentless penetration in my ass had me teetering on the edge of sanity. Martin's cock slid in and out of my mouth, his taste mingling with the salty tang of my tears and sweat.

"Look at her," Louis panted. "She's fucking loving this."

"That's because she knows who she belongs to," Kevin replied, his voice hoarse with pleasure.

Even as they used me, my mind's eye sought out Joseph, invisible to me past the looming bodies of his junior executives. He remained seated in his chair, a silent sentinel watching over the debauchery he had decreed. In my imagination, his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, and despite the chaos around me I felt a profound sense of belonging.

My world shrank to the sensations: the fullness of Kevin inside my pussy, the brutal invasion of Louis in my ass, the demanding thrusts of Martin in my mouth. Each touch, each movement, drew me further into a realm where thought ceased to exist, replaced by raw, primal pleasure.

"Fuck, she's squeezing so tight," Kevin groaned, his fingers digging into my hips as he held me steady for Louis' punishing thrusts in my bottom.

"Isn't that right, little whore?" Martin taunted, pulling back to let me answer.

"Yes," I gasped around him, my voice barely more than a breathless whisper. "I need it. I need all of you."

Good girl , came Joseph's imagined voice again, as if he had pressed his lips to my ear, the words so clear that I knew he hadn't actually spoken.

Time lost meaning as they continued to use me, my body responding with a series of uncontrollable climaxes. Each orgasm tore through me, leaving me trembling and weak, yet hungry for more. I floated somewhere beyond the physical plane, my spirit untethered even as my flesh remained bound to their desires.

"Almost there," Kevin grunted, his movements growing erratic.

"Me too," Louis echoed, his grip tightening on my waist.

"Let's finish her off," Martin commanded, pushing deeper into my throat.

As they reached their peaks, I felt another climax building within me, unstoppable and all-consuming. The room faded away, replaced by a universe of pure, blinding ecstasy. I was no longer Ingrid Vogel, whether naughty or obedient, independent or submissive; I had become a vessel of pleasure, a conduit for their lust.

When it finally ended, they lifted me from the coffee table and left me curled up on the couch, barely aware of their leaving one by one. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but a soft, warm pressure settled over my shoulders: Joseph's suit coat, a symbol of his protection, his ownership. He gathered me into his arms, cradling me with a surprising gentleness.

"I love you," he murmured. "Let's go home."